Freestate [Bleach, Byakuya/Renji, NC-17]
Title: Freestate
Author: drabbleandfluff
Word Count: 3657
Spoilers: For the SS Arc
Warnings: Swearing, rampant use of italics, lots of canine metaphors, probably waaay too wordy.
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns all.
Summary: Kuchiki Taicho is still a bit unsettled after the Aizen incident. Abarai Fukutaicho notices a crack in the fine porcelain veneer of his captain; and decides to scratch at it.
Prompt: Nov 29: Alpha Male, Power Issues, Pulling Rank, Rough Sex.
“You need to release what you’re feeling inside, Let out the beast that you’re trying to hide.”
A/N: I want to thank the prompter for this, I joined the community just so I could have a go at this one… I hope it's something close to what you wanted. I’m not sure the sex is rough enough, but the foreplay should be! ;P
Title comes from ‘Freestate’ - Depeche Mode
Also posted at my journal here.
The atmosphere at the Sixth Division was strained. The lower seats were unable to put into words, the how or why they felt this uneasiness surround them… only that something felt different. After more than a half century of being led by an unseen but powerful and consistently steady reiatsu; the squad couldn’t quite grasp the intangibility of its discordance.
Two men understood it for what it was. One was their captain.
Byakuya was agitated. He seethed at knowing he had been used, tricked… played. Whether it was from anger or guilt, or just the mere fact that he felt so damn impotent, waiting… simply waiting, for those traitors to bring further chaos into his life.
Being a pawn for others, to perform as planned… it was a foreign concept unacceptable to the noble; and it wasn’t like him, to have this kind of… extemporary resentment, eating away at him. But it was there. And it needed to be given outlet.
He thought it wasn’t paranoia, that he perceived the eyes of the Division had altered when they now looked at him. Especially with that Fukutaicho. The man was provoking him. Testing the leash. It was with atypical acrimony that Byakuya thought that perhaps it was time for the choke chain to be applied so that the stray dog would once again be brought to heel.
Ever since Abarai Renji had become a part of the Sixth Division, Byakuya sensed an underlying tension between them. At first, the captain had convinced himself it was just the toothless animosity of the subordinate who had been forced to relinquish the only family he’d had to the noble.
After the Aizen betrayal, after their comprehension of one another had somewhat resolved things… the tension still remained. Greater than before. Now that they both understood the true worth of the other man.
Byakuya grudgingly gave acknowledgement to what it truly was. Abarai evoked within the noble, the fire that once was; a mordant reminder or who he once was.
Perturbed, the captain had taken lately, to practicing with a wooden sword. No, not practicing; training… punishing. There was something… solid… and satisfying… about feeling each strike to the training posts reverberate into his hands; into his muscles and bones. After an hour, there were three swords splintered; demolished, at his feet. The fourth was rapidly coming apart in his grip…
The Division’s fukutaicho observed it all from the doorway at the far end of the training room; the second man in the Sixth who understood.
In the months following Rukia’s near execution, as the extent of all the lies and manipulation of Aizen’s treachery had come to fruition; Renji saw the miniscule changes taking hold in his captain. He saw it in the eyes that sometimes were not able to shield itself of irritation; or felt it in the normally disciplined reiatsu, that for a fraction of a second radiated hostility.
It intrigued him.
Renji couldn’t help but see his taicho in a different light. When everyone else had failed, when it had come down to the crucial moment, Kuchiki Byakuya had stood in front of his adopted sister, sans zanpakuto, and had taken the point of the sword meant to kill her. It had barely missed killing him. To Renji, this one act had changed his entire perspective of the man he called his captain. It made Renji want to see it again. The humanity. It was in there.
And so he pushed.
He wanted to be by his captain’s side. Wanted to be there when the mask shattered and the real man stepped forward.
Renji slowly walked into the training room; the air already electrified with Byakuya’s churning reiatsu. It made his skin tingle; the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. His nostrils flared at the musky scent of sweat and heat of the man inside; he was surprised to feel a familiar type of warmth creep low into his belly.
“Looks like you could use a training partner, Taicho,” the redhead offered, “… posts don’t do so much in the way of fighting back.” A wary smirk embellished the otherwise careful grin on his face.
Renji thought that if Kuchiki Byakuya had a face that would appear as if he were scoffing, this would’ve been it.
“I am a Captain… Abarai-fukutaicho.” … and I will wipe the floor with you.
“C’mon… it’ll be good for me to judge my progress…” the easy-going tenor underlay a soft challenge. “Won’t it give you another opportunity to kick my ass?”
A heartbeat of silence. “If you insist.”
Renji smiled, sharp white teeth flashing.
Renji didn’t think he had that much pride. Hell, coming up from the slums of the Rukongai, he knew he had groveled and slunk in the dirtiest of shit there ever was. But something was stinging, and it wasn’t just the bruises from all the body blows he’d been taking. Taicho stood not ten feet from him, holding his bakuto point down… wasn’t he even a threat? Not a single hair out of place… same exact calm demeanor. Dammit, the guy wasn’t even breathing heavily… cool and dispassionate, those grey eyes looked right through him.
Two solid hours of ass kicking, and his was the only one sore.
“You been holdin’ out on me, Taicho? I don’t remember you hitting quite so lightly, before.”
“You are trying to provoke me, Fukutaicho,” that smooth as silk and indifferent timbre droned, “it will not work.”
With a growl, Renji attacked. In typical fashion, he advanced with a forward slash, but at the last moment, feinted left. Finishing his swing with the left hand only, his right elbow aimed for the noble’s pristine jaw. Barely missing as the captain dodged, the redhead nonetheless felt the slight brush of skin on his arm. He heard the sharp intake in breath as he took the captain by surprise… felt the surge of exhilaration in getting the upper hand, if only for a brief second.
Renji dropped his sword entirely, and grabbed at the heirloom scarf, bunching a handful in his large sweaty fist.
“Fukutaicho,” there was a fleeting glimpse of emotion in that steely gaze, “… stop this. Now.”
It was there… a simmering awareness bubbling up to the surface. Push.
“No,” he practically snarled, “come on Taicho… gimme the best you got!” He yanked hard on the scarf, to pull the slim captain in closer. All he came up with was a handful of soft cloth. His captain stood five feet away, his neck bare.
An oh so light smirk tugged at the edge of Kuchiki taicho’s mouth, as he easily sidestepped and evaded his fukutaicho’s successive attempts to engage him in close range fighting. Renji advanced towards him; fists… legs… swinging and missing. It was like a macabre dance between two men; one getting more and more agitated, the other finding that faintest bit of mockery and victory amusing.
Byakuya used the momentum of one of Renji’s throws to move past him, the elegantly tapered fingers wrapping around the back of the redhead’s muscular neck…pushing downwards… Renji was thrown off balance; barely registering the padded floor rushing up to meet his face. Instantly, he curled his shoulder forward, rolling with the force of the fall onto his back; and with a quick arch and snap of his hips, Renji was back on his feet.
Not having taken advantage of the situation, Byakuya had turned his back to walk away. His wrist was suddenly clamped in an iron grip, and his arm was pinned behind his back as his fukutaicho pushed him into the nearby wall, hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. He could feel the heat radiating off Renji’s body as it pressed against his. The redhead did not defer to his rank.
Heated breath wafted over his ear, insolently rumbling, “You didn’t think that was gonna keep me down, did you?”
Byakuya shot a glare over his shoulder at the impudent subordinate… you should have stayed down.
Without word, the captain pushed off the wall with more force that Renji would’ve suspected the smaller man capable, and turned sharply. Not even a flinch, at what must have been an extraordinary amount of pressure and pain to dislodge the taller, heavier fukutaicho off his arm, flickered in the mirrored gaze of the Kuchiki noble.
And then Renji saw it, through a crack in the reflective glass; it looked like anger and frustration, menace and mirth.
Kuchiki Taicho began to attack in earnest.
Caught up in the heightened awareness required of hand to hand combat, something he so rarely indulged in, Byakuya allowed his inner aggression to take form. His fukutaicho required a stronger hand. He needed to tame… no not tame… domesticate… this young mutt fighting his way toward the front of the pack.
Renji was agile, his coordination clearly exceptional for such a large man. He was a fine example of hard muscle and strong bones; his skin was shiny and sleek with sweat, and an unrefined grace to his movements didn’t pass the observing eye of the captain. An almost indiscernible smirk pulled back Byakuya’s lips; he would look forward to the submission.
A hit to the solar plexus with the palm of a slender hand nearly doubled Renji in two as the wind got knocked out of him. In another half second, Kuchiki taicho was behind him, a foot to the back of his knee wrenched a curse from the redhead’s throat as he fell heavily to the mat yet again. The weight of a powerful hand fell on the back of his skull this time, forcing his cheek to the floor. The smell of straw and dust filled Renji’s nostrils as he sucked in a desperate breath.
Renji’s upper body was pinned to the tatami mat, under his captain. His right arm was trapped beneath his own body as he had tried to brace his fall; his left arm was wrenched behind his back, twisted and held palm in… fuck, he could just about scratch the back of his own neck! Searing pain spiking into his shoulder made him gasp involuntarily.
The captain’s weight held steady; the only part Renji had a chance of moving were his hips and legs. His legs, however, had been kicked apart, and lay spread out, straddling the captain’s own. He felt one of Kuchiki taicho’s hips press against his backside to hold him down… tried not to be distracted by that fact alone. Still, he had no leverage, even if he could move his lower body.
“You consistently try to provoke me, Abarai,” the captain spoke into his ear… too close. “You continue to forget your place. Must I remind you… the difference between us, is in level.”
Renji’s eyes fluttered shut as the honeyed caress seeped into his head. That arrogant purr… the sultry insults. Renji was at least gratified to note that the noble was out of breath, for once.
“… and you are beneath me.”
Renji’s eyes snapped open; glaring back over his shoulder, a growl perched on his lips. Seeing it, Byakuya pushed the redhead’s wrist just a centimeter higher; and the sound escaping Renji’s mouth yelped instead.
Fuck!...
“Yield to me, Abarai. And this will be over.”
Renji pushed his forehead into the mat, exhaling heavily. Trying to catch his breath. Trying to buy some time to think his way out of this. He set his knees into the tatami, then pushed back with his hips; attempting to buck the captain off his back. He was the larger man after all, so it should've been a good plan.
What he hadn’t expected was to feel the unmistakable line of heat rubbing against his outer thigh, nor the quiet hitch of breath and subtle noise in Kuchiki taicho’s throat as Renji unexpectedly ground into the captain’s erection. He froze.
“You seek to aggravate me.” Byakuya’s voice smooth and unflustered, ignoring the physical arousal as if it was not affecting him in the least, “I see it in the way you look at me, Abarai-fukutaicho. Is it that you feel you have the moral high ground now, with Rukia?”
The captain shifted, leaning forward, pressing his weight more firmly onto the redhead’s back. He kicked out the lieutenant’s right knee, making Renji immobile once again. Byakuya then pinned his own knee forcefully upon the back of Renji’s thigh; the redhead was completely at the mercy of his captain.
“That’s… not… it, Taicho,” … he could barely string a few words together… his arm was going numb… and dammit, Taicho was heavy! Oh, but fuck, if he didn’t feel his own cock starting to fill. Having the man so damn close… leaning on him, breathing on him…
“Really...” Byakuya tilted his hip, purposely rubbing his hardened length against the cleft of Renji’s ass, “… you endeavor to lead this pack, Abarai?” The captain’s voice changed into something seductive, hypnotic in its deep velvety timbre, “…bite the hand that feeds you, Fukutaicho?”
Renji knew he should be offended by the disparaging remarks. Only his dick said otherwise. The insults were so fuckin’ turning him on… and… Oh shiii… was he?... Renji’s mind went completely and utterly blank. Oh hell. He couldn’t help it; he tipped his hips into the captain’s motions. Oh fuck.
Byakuya could feel the muscles straining in Renji’s shoulders and back; heard the harsh breathing… could almost hear Abarai’s thoughts trying to piece this one together.
“Yield, Abarai…” the voice steely and compelling; moist and alive in Renji’s ear, “and I will let you up.”
A hot slippery tongue teasingly, languorously, licked its way up the jagged black markings at the redhead’s neck. Beneath the hand still pinning Renji’s head to the floor. He had never felt anything so fucking amazing as that tongue on his skin.
A light whine escaped Renji’s throat. He was panting hard in tension and anticipation. The adrenaline flowing through his blood didn’t help matters either. His heart was hammering in his chest, his muscles were screaming, he was getting lightheaded… and he thought, mindfucked-- all at the same time.
Taicho hadn’t so much as even touched him before today… and now… now… he was being physically dominated by his cold, impersonal captain. The man was controlling every aspect of this encounter… and holy fuck, if he wasn’t getting off on this.
Swallowing, Renji gruffly replied, “No…” this ain’t fuckin’ ending… no way, no how.
Needing to ease the throbbing in his now painfully turgid cock; Renji rocked his hips back, what little he could, and rubbed himself between his captain and the floor. He was wound so tightly; just that little bit of friction rolled his eyes into the back of his head.
Satisfaction in Renji’s decision more than warmed the icy gaze above; the fathomless gray eyes fevered with arousal, and darkened in lust.
The one hand on the back of Renji’s skull released. Fingers lightly stroked his cheekbones as they moved towards his mouth. Two long, perfect digits pushed past Renji’s lips, seeking out his forthright tongue. He opened his mouth, sucking on them whole heartedly; tasting the salt, the musty bitterness of leather.
Pushing his hips up, he ground harder into his captain. His sensitive ears picked up the increasingly fuller breaths, as Kuchiki taicho moved against him in response. But it was that unmistakable sound that shot a wave of molten heat rolling through his body … the inimitable, ever-so-soft, silky groan of pleasure. Oh yeah.Come on.Come on.
Byakuya released the arm he had pinned to Abarai’s back. With a ragged groan, Renji’s arm flopped weakly to the redhead’s side. Leaning forward to brace his weight on his elbow at Abarai’s head, Byakuya tipped Renji’s hip to slide his hand under and forward to release the tie at his waist. He tugged the hakama loose, pulling them down muscular thighs; a few more jerks of his hand, and the fundoshi was removed too.
His mouth only a hairs breadth away from Renji’s head, “You overlook your position Abarai-fukutaicho, which I find interesting…” Byakuya purred softly into the redhead’s ear, “…as the canine species is well adept at recognizing the alpha male of their pack.”
There was a rumble rising within Renji’s chest, guttural and defiant.
“I am that leader, Abarai.”
Byakuya pulled his fingers from Renji’s mouth.
What exited was throaty sound instead; submission. Dammit. Fuck. He wanted. Wanted his captain, wanted what Kuchiki taicho was going to do with his body. He was shaking with it… this need.
He grunted when the fingers entered him; burned as they stretched and touched him. Renji realized that his captain was no longer holding him down. The pressure on his chest was no more, had not been for a few minutes now. His legs were free, hell he could pull away and leave if he wanted to. Pull away from the body still partially draped over him, away from the fingers stroking him inside.
Instead with a groan, shoulders on fire from blood rushing into them in relief, Renji raised his arms to cradle his forehead.
“Fukutaicho…” It was his last warning.
Silently, the redhead shook his head.
“Do it, Taicho. Just. Fuck.” Renji’s voice muffled into the mat, thick and barely audible, “Yeah, do it…”
The fingers removed, and Renji felt heat. Blunt heavy heat. He gasped as that hardness shifted against him, rubbed against him. He heard the captain spit into his hand, and almost snorted at the absurdity of such a crude gesture from the noble.
Byakuya expected nothing less from the tenacious lieutenant, ever obstinate to the end. Oh, but he was gratified to hear the reciprocation in Abarai’s voice. Slicking his cock as best he could under the circumstances, Byakuya pushed in, biting back a groan as he buried his length into tight soft heat.
Renji knew he didn’t have any pride left as a choked whimper edged past his clenched teeth. As more and more of that hot, hard cock shoved deeper inside, he panted desperately, his body trying to adjust. There was just so much of it, filling him completely, touching him more intimately that anything he had ever experienced. He groaned in total surrender, giving his body over to his captain.
Searing liquid pleasure overflowed Byakuya’s senses, saturating his entire being as he sank deeper into the man below. Byakuya distantly heard Renji’s helpless groan echoing off the floor; the low sound causing his belly to clench tight with a punch of heat.
He rose up into a kneeling position, steel fingers grasping at a lean waist; pulling Renji’s hips up with him. He thrust forward until his thighs were flush against the backs of Renji’s own. Byakuya’s head fell back as his eyes snapped shut, an upwards gratified curl to the edges of his mouth emerged… and then he began to move.
Lithe hips snapped forward in long deliberate strokes, forcing snarls and gasps from the back of Renji’s throat. It burned; and yet it was so good. But he wanted more. Wanted it harder; faster. Wanted to feel something more from his captain. His fingers scrambled for purchase against the mat as a cant of Kuchiki taicho’s hips suddenly caused each thrust to shoot pleasure, like blue fire, up his spine. Oh fuck yeah.
Byakuya gave into blind instinct; caught up in the gratuitous sea of emotions that he never allowed unleashed. His hand reached out, grabbing at the neckline of Renji’s shihakusho; yanking downward to reveal the erotic markings on the redhead’s back. He leaned forward, tongue darting out eagerly to taste the perspiration glistening off the black stripes. His tongue lapped at the rivulets of sweat, tracing the broad muscled shoulders, indulging; sucking and nipping. So good. So good. Unable to prevent it, Byakuya opened his mouth wider and let his teeth sink, none-too-lightly, into the vulnerable skin at the lieutenant’s nape.
Renji moaned. And Byakuya tipped over the edge.
He surged, thrusting deep; floodgates breaking wide open. Bracing a hand on the floor at Renji’s shoulder, Byakuya sucked hard at the taut neck, biting even harder. His other hand left the sleek bruised hip and moved down to enclose Renji’s substantial cock. Thrusting hard and fast, hips slamming into slick skin; skillful fingers matched pace on the full heated shaft, asserting an aggressive stroke. In seconds he felt the tightening around his cock; heard the dampened shout of his fukutaicho.
Mindless to anything but reaching that pure, exquisite peak; Byakuya pulled back on Renji’s hips as his own pushed forward urgently… once… twice… back arching as he pulled up… Byakuya let the rumbling in his chest to take shape, releasing the pent up growl low in his throat as he came, hard, into Renji. The intensity of his orgasm was like staring straight into the sun-- blinding.
Exhausted, Byakuya collapsed on top of his fukutaicho as they both slumped to the floor. He let his forehead rest between striped shoulder blades for a minute, panting heavily to get his breath back, taking pleasure in the heartbeat pumping wildly beneath his fingertips.
“Fuck, Taicho…”
Byakuya stiffened, the immediacy of what he had done to his second in command washed over him like a cold wave. He was about to move away, when a large hand reached up and gave his shoulder an awkward pat, holding him there as crimson eyes opened and turned to lock onto his own.
“If that was the real Kuchiki Byakuya, Taicho,” Renji’s voice was tired, roughened with satiety, and not backing down in the least, “… you need to let him out more often.”
For a moment, Byakuya simply stared down at his lieutenant. He understood there was more meaning to those words than what was being said, or what could have been said. His fukutaicho had more insight than he had realized.
“Perhaps, Abarai…”